It All Started With A Little Bread
by riverknowshisname
Summary: In canon, following Mockingjay Epilogue, excerpt: "See?" says Rocket. "Happy, is better. Momma's always saying, it's better not to think about it – the bad stuff, like having toys taken away, that kind of thing – because it takes you about ten times as long to pick yourself back up," he thinks about it a moment, "as…it does to fall apart."
1. Chapter 1

_**As a forethought/comment/disclaimer/what have you, I do not own these characters or their back stories, what I do own is the way I interpret those times after the books. Suzanne Collins is a brilliant woman and I'm just so thankful to her that she wrote something that so many people connect to and enjoy writing about. If you read/have read/are reading my other Married In The Quarter Quell, I thank you for that, but just so you know this story is in canon. Finnick died, Prim died, Gale went to District 2. It is entirely separate from MITQQ so please read it as such, otherwise, here is Chapter One if It All Started With A Little Bread...**_

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"Peeta!" I holler out to the living room. "I think I might be burning this bread!"

I hear his unmistakable laugh, and the laugh of our son who can hardly know what I'm talking about, "hey, you're the one that wanted to try baking something. It's not my fault you're terrible at it."

"Not funny, Peeta. Please come help." I look out into the living room. With another slight laugh he sets Rocket on the floor by his sister. Ivy Rose. It seemed fitting to name her after Prim with the Rose. To be sure I miss Prim everyday, but it's nice to have at least some reminder of her here.

When Peeta comes out to the kitchen he wraps his arms around my waist from behind me, "I could've helped you with that." He coaxes.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I admit, "now would you please just pull it out of there before it burns!"

"Yes ma'am!" He says sarcastically, but retrieves the burnt bread anyways.

"See?" I say, "This is why I don't bake."

"I suppose that's true," he admits turning and giving me a kiss.

"Hey," I say, "take care of that before you burn something – or more importantly – someone!"

Peeta's laugh is infectious. He takes the pan with the bread in it, gives it a gentle dip over the sink – but it doesn't move. His laugh only intensifies at this – unfortunate for me. Both Ivy and Rocket decide they need to come find out what's so funny and are behind me in an instant.

"Daddy," says Ivy. "What are you doing?"

"Oh," he says seeing them and then good-naturedly tries to get the bread to come out a second time. "Momma burnt the bread!"

"Yay!" screams Rocket.

I turn to stare at him. "Rocket! Inside voice."

"I won! I won! I won!" he cheers.

I'm completely lost. "What have you won sweetheart?"

"I told Poppa you'd burn the bread!" he nods his head so hard he falls into Ivy who gives him a gentle shove back onto his feet. "You did! You did! You did! So I won!" He's now jumping up and down and Peeta is laughing so hard the pan falls into the sink.

"Peeta," I say accusingly, "it's not _that_ funny!" But of course it is, and in no time at all we're all laughing. Ivy and Peeta have both made it to balling up on the floor gasping for breath. Rocket seems unable to contain his excitement and runs all over the room, proclaiming, to no one, that I once again burnt the bread. This really is why I don't bake. Peeta's so good at it, and I'm so utterly terrible, that I forget myself whenever I offer.

"Oh yes it is," he says between gasps. "You know it is. Or you wouldn't be laughing!" This fact brings on a new round of giggles and I swear to all that is in existence, that my family is losing their minds. I wasn't sure if I wanted children. I certainly had not before the rebellion, and then I thought that my life could never be this good, could never be this sweet…I had thought I could finally open myself up – and I had – and was finally able to at least grasp my feels for Peeta…and then the Capitol took and hijacked him. I've stopped laughing at the thought, and am resolved to standing here staring at him and our children rolling around on the floor – Rocket thought it looked like fun and decided to join in – I realize how lucky I am. How grateful that Snow was not able to take Peeta away from me forever. I don't know that I would be alive today if Peeta hadn't come back to me. It was hard for me to let him back in, excruciatingly hard for me to let him back in…but after what Haymitch said about me needing to flip the scenario around in my head…well after that I felt like it was my duty to try to get back as much of him as I could.

Haymitch was right, if the situation had been reversed, if I had been the one to try to kill Peeta, to be hijacked, he would have done everything in his power to pull me back from that state of mind, to rescue me from the pool of uncertainty and a life full of confusion. I found out later that Peeta still loved me that whole time, he couldn't explain to himself why he did, or even how he did, but he also admitted to how abandoned he had felt by me. If I could take that time back…if I could do it all over again, I never would have let them separate us. Screw the alliance, if I'd know then what I know now, there is no way I would have walked away from him in that arena, not for a second. But I did, and there is so much time I will never get back, so many memories that are oh so sweet to me, that are forever tainted for him.

He would have been a better Mockingjay. He could win anyone over with his words. He had Caesar eating out of the palm of his hand, he calmed me in my most vegetative state, and everything really, Peeta could do things – move people to action, encourage a cease-fire, god knows what else – with his words that even my most eloquent speech could never hope to attain. Oh yes, he would have been far better for the rebellion than I ever was. Instead, he was forced to come along…I was forced to deal with my neglect of Peeta, and things were never the same after that. If I hadn't been so hyped up on adrenaline I might have actually gotten some real enjoyment from that kiss, my asking him to stay, and his ever constant reply of "always." Peeta is too good for me, how could I have gotten so lucky? No, not lucky…part of him will never be the same, but for what I do have, the memories he does have or has remembered…for those, I am grateful. Yes, grateful is the right word.

I'm drawn once again back to the image in front of me, Peeta has both of the children in each of his arms and he's play threatening them. Ivy is just old enough that they have started talking about the Games at school…something I wish I could block out of the mind of my children forever, because at some point there will be more to the story, at some point I – and Peeta, too – will have to tell them about the rest of it. About Peeta's hijacking, about the many deaths we suffered, Finnick for one. Just the other day Peeta had asked me if I wanted a sugar cube – for my tea, and tears burst from my eyes, of course Peeta couldn't know how close Finnick and I had become in District 13, I'd hardly been able to talk about it myself, but that night we put the kids to bed early, and I recounted memories to Peeta I had left out. There are certain things you don't want the love of your life to know, and certain things that once brought up can never be ignored.

"Katniss?" It's not until he's standing in front of me panting that I realize Peeta must have said my name several times before coming over to me. "Are you okay?"

"What?" I ask making eye contact with him.

"Are you okay?" He's concerned, and I guess I would be too, so I can't blame him.

"Oh, yeah." I nod. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Peeta gives me a condescending look. He knows that's not true, but he won't press. "Later," he nods. "We will talk about whatever it is later. Okay?" I can't say no, so instead I agree.

"Momma!" squeals Rocket, and Peeta and I turn to look at him.

"What baby boy?" I coo.

"Meadow?" he asks with a huge smile on his face.

I look at Peeta, and we make a silent agreement. "Not tonight sweetheart."

"Why?" he asks with a pouty lip.

"Tomorrow, okay?" says Peeta.

"Oh…kay…" says Rocket slowly, before marching over to me and sticking his right hand pinky finger up towards me, "pinky swear?"

I let out a little laugh before bending over to him and linking pinkies. "My pinky swears."

He lets go of my finger and makes a barrel run towards Ivy who upon seeing him charging at her squeals and runs for the living room. Peeta puts his arm left arm around my back and I put my right around his waist, leaning my head on his shoulder he kisses me on the head.

"Momma!" screams Ivy. "He won't stop!"

"I gotta catch choo!" hollers Rocket running up behind her.

Going on another run around the room Ivy hollers over her shoulder, "If I let you catch me can we please stop running?"

"Nope!" say Rocket defiantly.

"Momma!" Ivy yells again.

"Okay, okay, okay," I say stepping forward. "You wanna play chase little man?" he comes to a dramatic halt and nods hard. "Then you'd better catch me!" I take off in a light run around the house. Rocket isn't far behind because for someone that's four years old, he runs pretty fast.

"I'll get choo! I'll get choo!" he yells as I run into the study, he's closer than I anticipated and runs right into me, hands raised. "I got you! I got you!" He starts giggling so hard he falls onto the floor.

"What's all this about?" I tease. "Someone want to be tickled?" I ask kneeling down beside him. "Huh? Is that what you want?" The smile on my face is so big that it's hurting my mouth, but it's the good kind of hurt. The hurt that lets you know you're more than just alive, it's the hurt that lets you know you're living.

"No!" he screams as I start to tickle his sides. "Ahh! Momma stop!"

"What?" I say sitting back on my legs and putting my arms out to my sides, "stop?"

"Yeee-ssss," he gasps and jumps to his feet and darts from the room.

I hardly reach him when there's a knock on the door. "Peeta! Can you get that?"

"Yeah."

"Where did my little Rocket go?" I can hear him giggling in the kitchen so I follow him in there. He's hiding under the table. I'm just about to reach for him when Peeta's voice calls my attention. I look back in that direction, Rocket still giggling to my left. "What?"

"Um," he says. "Well, just come here, would ya?"

I don't know what's in his voice, but it sounds strained, not normal. I don't really know what to think about it. So I get up and walk through the kitchen, through the living room and over to the door. But I stop up short when I see who is at the door.

"Gale?" I ask, uncertain.

"Hey, Catnip," he says slowly.

"Uh…" I try to form a coherent thought. I haven't seen Gale since we were in the Capitol before I killed Coin. Years ago. Before Peeta and I were married, before we had the kids. "Umm…" I shake my head trying to force the words out of my muddled mind. "What are you doing here?"

"I figured…" he shrugs. "I don't really know." He shakes his head. "Maybe I shouldn't have come."

"Gale," says Peeta. "It's okay. Please, come in."

"I don't know…" says Gale eying me carefully. "Katniss?"

I shake and then nod my head, "uh, yeah. You can come in." I step aside to give him room and bump right into Peeta who holds me steady and whispers in my ear how it'll be fine and if I want Gale to leave at any moment, he'll make him go. So we turn and as we head to the living room Rocket and Ivy rush out into the hallway and grind to a halt.

"That's not Uncle Haymitch!" Rocket yells at Ivy.

"Hey!" she glares down at him. "I said I thought it sounded like him."

"Does not!" yells Rocket.

"Does too!" Ivy yells back just as irritated as her brother.

"Does not!"

"Does too!"

"Does not!"

"OKAY!" I yell. "Enough of that you two." They stop glaring at each other and instead look at me innocent as ever. "Go play in the other room."

"Don't we get to know who this is?" says Ivy pointing a lazy pointer finger at Gale.

"Later honey," says Peeta and they obediently leave the room.

"Kids?" asks Gale.

"Yeah," say Peeta and I in unison.

"Is that a surprise?" I ask.

"Well, you always said you'd never wanted children," says Gale.

"Well, I didn't," I say. "Not while we still had the Games."

"What changed your mind?" he asks.

"Well," I start. "There are no more Games."

"That's all it took to change your mind?" he asks.

"Well, I don't know, Gale." I shrug. "I don't know what you're asking."

"What changed your mind?"

"Peeta," I say easily. "Peeta, changed my mind."

"Ah," says Gale nodding.

"Let's go into the other room," says Peeta and he leads the way, Gale follows, and then I do. Peeta gestures for Gale to take a seat on the couch, which he does. Peeta then goes and sits in the armchair, and I take a seat on one of the arms. We sit in an awkward silence for several minutes before Rocket rushes into the room, thrusts himself on the chair and wedges himself between Peeta and me.

"_I'm hiding_," he whispers and then buries his head behind my hip.

"How old is he?" Gale asks.

"Four," Peeta and I say together.

"And how old is the other one?"

"Our daughter?" asks Peeta, slightly annoyed at how Gale referred to her. "She's eight."

"You two married then?" he asks.

"I'll wager you knew the answer to that before you got here," says Peeta accusingly. Gale doesn't deny it. "Yes, we're married. But you know it didn't just automatically happen after we won. It took a long time for me to get back here, and then once I was, well, it took a while Gale."

Then Gale looks as if he's about to cry, "I'm _so_ sorry Katniss. There's not a day that goes by that I'm not sorry about what happened to Prim." I shift anxiously in my seat as he continues. "It was my bomb – mine and Beetee's – we knew about the plan, but Katniss, I never knew Prim was going to be there."

"Coin did," says Peeta. "That's why Katniss killed her. Her and Snow had some misguided deal not to lie to one another, so when he told her he wasn't responsible, she believed him."

"Well," I interject, "he always did what he said he was going to do. He took Peeta because I proved to him, in that arena…" I take a deep breath, "after Peeta's heart stopped, that I did love Peeta. Because that happened he knew the best way to get at the rebels was through me, and through me, Peeta. And he accomplished that goal…you saw me in Thirteen, you know first hand what that did to me."

"Yeah," says Gale nodding and taking a deep breath. "I'm still so sorry, Katniss."

What happens next I'm not prepared for, as Gale is sitting on the couch with tears running down his face, Rocket scoots his way off the chair, hops down, grabs a tissue from the table to Peeta's left and extends hand to Gale.

"Don't cry big man."

"Thank you," says Gale taking the tissue from Rocket and blows his nose.

"You're alive," continues Rocket, "that's enough to smile about." Then his face breaks out into a silly little grin and his blue eyes sparkle. This little boy has so much of his father in him. His vocabulary is not large, he doesn't know a lot of words, but with the words he does know…well, he has a very soothing demeanor. And has a way with words.

Just then the oven beeps loudly and we all jump. "Ahh!" I shout. "Peeta! The food!" Peeta and I both jump up, grateful that Rocket was not between us anymore, and rush out into the kitchen. Peeta frantically grabs the oven mitts from the sink and I toss over to him the spatula from the other counter. I wish I could say this didn't happen very often, but it did – does. It happens a lot. We've gotten so used to it that there's almost a process for it. When Ivy was first born and we weren't sleeping well, we constantly fell asleep while dinner was cooking. Ate more than one burnt meal a week, suffice it to say.

As Peeta takes care of the food – it wasn't burnt after all – and transfers it to our dishes, I glance out to the living room. Rocket is patting Gale's leg as Gale straightens up from his hunched over position.

"See?" says Rocket. "Happy, is better. Momma's always saying, it's better not to think about it – the bad stuff, like having toys taken away, that kind of thing – because it takes you about ten times as long to pick yourself back up," he thinks about it a moment, "as…it does to fall apart." Then he looks hesitant, as if he said it wrong but then nods, "yep. Basically, be happy all the time."

Finnick said this to me, the night of the District 13 bombing, he was playing with a rope and I had just realized how Snow was using Peeta, and how everything I did was taken out on Peeta. It was the day before I was broken completely. The day I realized – beyond the shadow of a doubt – that I couldn't be the Mockingjay anymore with Peeta in the Capitol. Then he got back and…well, I'm not going to think about that. But in memory of Finnick…this, this is how I remember him. This one thing he told me that night that was absolutely true, and he was absolutely right, I just wish I could tell him that.

"Momma?" Ivy asks from behind me, scaring me so much that I drop the plate in my hand. I spin to look at her. "Whoa, and you get mad when I break things."

"Well," I try to think of a reason why I'm not yelling at myself, "yeah. Momma broke a plate, Momma burnt the bread. Today it's World 2, Momma 0." Ivy laughs at that. At least my daughter finds some humor in my distractedness.

I just catch Peeta's eye and he mouths something that looks like "do you like me thinner?" But I know that's not it, and in a quiet tone I say, "_what?_"

"_Do you want Gale, to stay for dinner?_"

Ohh…now I understand. "_I'm not sure._"

"_It's your call, Katniss._"

"Rocket," I lean out of the archway and wave him over to me, he comes running in a second. "Do you want to have some company for dinner?"

"Uncle Haymitch?!" he jumps up and down excitedly.

"Oh…" I say. Haymitch was on his annual "get away" where pretty much he would just hole himself up in his house and drink an entire week away. "Um, no honey." I point to the other room, "him. Do you want him to stay?"

"Sure," he shrugs. "Uncle Haymitch isn't coming, is he?"

"Not tonight, I'm afraid."

His shoulders slump ever so slightly and he turns to go back to the other room. "Hey, tall guy," he says to Gale. "You wanna stay for supper? I don't think it's burnt," he says and I frown in his direction, "_this time._" He says a bit quieter, but I can still hear him.

"Do your parents want me to stay?" he asks looking over towards the kitchen and I fly forward so he can't see me watching them.

"Well," I glance back out to see him shrugging, "I think so."

"Do you want me to stay?" Gale asks him.

"Well," he shrugs again, "you're not Uncle Haymitch," he sighs, "but I guess it's fine."

"Oh," says Gale. "Okay. Sure, I suppose I'll stay."

"Okay," Rocket says as he trots back into the kitchen. "He'll stay." Then he mumbles under his breath, "_but I'd prefer Uncle Haymitch._" I don't know what that man did to bewitch my children so, but for some reason it's like he hung the moon in the sky just for them, which I guess in a way – a very distant, obscure, way – he did.

He got me to quit shutting their father out.

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	2. Chapter 2

Dinner was silent except for the ramblings of Rocket whenever he ate his vegetables. He is not one for the veggies, and Ivy had this fascination with guessing Gale's name. She didn't want anyone to tell her so we heard just about every name imaginable. We thought she couldn't possible come up with anymore when she finally said, "Gale?"

Peeta and I who had taken to looking back and forth between each other and our plates turned our attention to Ivy. I'd never mentioned Gale to them. Oh, it's not that I thought that Gale was a terrible person, or that we didn't have good memories together, but talking about Gale meant talking about Prim, and talking about Prim meant talking about the war, and talking about the war meant talking about the Games, and neither Peeta or I were ready for that yet.

Ivy makes eye contact with me, "Is he Gale?" Then Gale looks at me, almost wounded. He can tell by the way she's said it that she doesn't know anything about him, nothing but his name, and frankly even that is an area of confusion. When I say we never mentioned Gale, I mean we _never_ mentioned Gale. We'd talked about him a handful of times. Occasionally Hazelle would tell me – unsolicited – how he was doing, but Peeta and I never mentioned Gale, not even once, not even in passing to them, so how did she even know what he name was? Ivy clearly irritated now stares at Peeta, "Is he Gale?"

Peeta and I exchange a cautionary glance before turning to her and quietly saying, "yes."

"You haven't heard of me?" Gale sounds hurt. He's looking back and forth between Ivy and Rocket. Rocket is shaking his head so fiercely that he tips in is chair. I manage to reach my arm out in time and sit him back up straight. Then he turns his gray eyes to me, "they haven't heard of me?"

"I – uh – we – um…" I'm not even sure what to say.

Ivy is nodding, "they talked about you in school the other day."

"Oh?" says Gale and Peeta and I share a worried glance before turning to look at our daughter. "What did they say?"

"How you fought with, Katniss Everdeen," she points to my, but continues, "and Peeta Mellark," she points to Peeta. "Win the war."

"Did they say how?" Peeta and I ask frantically.

I hadn't even realized I was leaning forward, hanging on her every word, "some sort of bomb." That's it. I slump back into my chair. Could they have possibly gotten that far in school with a bunch of eight year olds?

Peeta reaches out to grab my hand, "did they say anything about us?" he gestures to him and I, but I doubt Ivy needed clarification.

"No," she shook her head. "Apparently we have a whole week to talk about you guys. I guess your lives and influence are more important or something," she shrugs, and then looks at us bemused. "Why?"

"When is this week supposed to be?" my voice breaks. We hadn't wanted her to know that much about it yet, we're not ready for that. We're thirty-nine and still so unready to talk to our children about our part in the rebellion. So unready to relive all those memories. Explain why my nightmares exist, explain why Peeta has episodes from time to time, explain why we put them to bed early so often after those episodes – we rewatch those parts of the Games – no matter what we do…what we've gone through…we will never be ready – or allowed, rather – to put the Games behind us. It is a time that will always haunt us for as long as we live, that's _not_ something we wanted to pass onto them. We would do practically anything to save them from knowing any of this…but I suppose living with the fact that there are no more Games will have to be enough…we don't really have any other options.

"Oh!" she shouts noticing our reactions. "Not until at least seventh year. That's what Miss Posy said anyways."

"My sister?" Gale asked looking at me.

"Yeah," I shrug, "didn't your mom tell you?"

"No…"

"Oh, um, yeah. Her and Rory both teach."

"They do?"

"Yeah." Says Peeta.

"What does Vick do?"

"Didn't you come see your family?" I ask him.

"No," he shakes his head. "I wanted to make sure – " he looks at the kids, "I wanted to make sure it was okay with you to be here." He gives a little shrug.

"Have _I_ been keeping you from visiting all these year?" my jaw drops. I've seen and heard just how much they all miss him. It hadn't really – well it had, but not quite so substantially as it does right now – occurred to me that this _might_ even be the case. But then again, why should it be so surprising? He hadn't come back here in the first place because he knew I couldn't forgive him for Prim's death. I'll never forgive him for that, I just can't. But to stay away from his family…because of me…I just can't believe it. "I can't be the only reason?" I harden my gaze at him. "There's another reason, too, what is it?" I pry.

"Um," he looks back and forth between Ivy and Rocket who are now simply playing with their food and staring intently at each of us. "Maybe we should talk about this later." He gestures to the kids.

"Alright," I say standing up so suddenly that my chair almost crashes to the floor – Peeta catches it. "Alright kids," I say. "Time for bed."

"What?" they cry out together.

"Yes," I say. "Bed time!"

"I'm not tired," they whine together.

"Too bad," I usher them from the room and upstairs. I put them in their nightclothes, read them a quick story and tuck them in bed. I expect to hear silence upon my return except Peeta and Gale seem to be having a conversation. I hang back. The only other time this has happened was on our way into the Capitol and Gale talked about how I would pick one of them based on the longevity of my life. "..._Katniss will choose whoever she can't survive without."_ Or some horrible variation of that. So while being as quiet as I can I lean against the wall to listen.

"So why are you really here Gale?" asks Peeta. "And no more of these fluzee answers you've been giving me since Katniss left the room. I believe your apology was genuine, you are sorry that Prim died, and you are sorry that your bomb was responsible – but I don't think that given the opportunity you would have stopped them from releasing those bombs. You wanted the Capitol to look horrible, and that's what those bombs did. So what if there were a few casualties."

"You've been holding onto that for a long time, haven't you?" Gale asks in monotone.

"Do you blame her?"

"No," Gale says quietly. "And you're right, those bombs were essential to convincing the Rebels that our cause was good."

"The means to an end?" Peeta asks.

"Yes."

"In what way did you justify those means, Gale?" Peeta asks accusingly.

"Peeta," says Gale defensively. "It's not like I expected her to forgive me."

"Prim died!"

"Which is why I'd never expect her to forgive me." He sighs heavily. "But yes, you're right. Regardless of how terrible the end ended up being, I do justify the means. The means – bomb – let to the end – rebels winning, Capitols downfall – you can't say you're not happy about that."

"_Of course_," says Peeta emphasizing every syllable. "I'm glad the Capitol fell. I was in the arena's Gale. What did you ever have to be so mad at? Oppression? The Games? Well Katniss and I were _in them_. In what book of word – shit – does it say that 'he who has qualm with government has more right to hate the government than those who have suffered more'? If you were in the arena, I can see why you'd feel this way. If you'd been taken, by the Capitol, and tortured, I can see why you'd feel this way. I could go on, but I think you get the point."

"Yes," says Gale flatly. "I guess I do."

There's a long silence, and I'm afraid even my breathing would alert them to my presence, but Peeta speaks.

"She may never admit it," says Peeta. "But she does miss you."

"I doubt that."

"Why do you say it like that?"

"Well," Gale starts. "Why would she miss _me_, when she has all," I can picture him gesturing all around him. "This? Why would she miss me when she has you?"

"Well, obviously not for the same reasons." Says Peeta irritation in his voice. "As a confidant. As a friend."

"I doubt that."

"Well," says Peeta. "Doubt or believe what ever you want, but she does miss you."

"Your kids don't seem to know how I am – well, if Posy hadn't said something."

"Gale," says Peeta calmly. "If we mention you, we have to mention why you're not here, to mention that we can't mention that your bomb is how Prim died, we can't mention how Prim died because then we have to talk about the war, if we talk about the war we have to mention my hijacking, and if we mention that…" Peeta sighs heavily. "It's just a road we don't want to go down."

"And I'm the start of it."

"A little spark is all that's needed to start an inferno."

"Okay…"

There's another long silence, and I'm scared to breath again.

"She's lucky, you know?" says Gale, breaking the silence.

"For what?" Peeta asks.

"You. I mean, I guess she always had you." He adjusts himself in his seat, I only know this because I can hear it creaking. "Ever since they changed those rules in the arena."

"Yeah," says Peeta, but quickly follows it with, "when you were whipped—"

"We're you listening in that cellar?" Gale asks inhaling and exhaling sharply. "The way she kissed you in the Quell. Peeta, she _never_ kissed me like that. Even when I tried to kiss her – where you were present, but unreachable – it was obvious she was thinking about you."

"You tried kissing her?"

"Well, it's not like you had some divine claim the Capitol didn't want."

"And you did?"

"Well, no."

More silence.

It seemed to drag on for

F

O

R

E

V

E

R

Before one of them finally spoke again.

"Why did you come back here Peeta?" Gale asks. "I'm sure you had the option to go wherever you wanted. Didn't you still hate Katniss? I mean, why would you come back to 12 if you didn't want to kill her anymore? Did some memory survive?"

"Several did, actually," says Peeta. "During the Victory Tour, before the Games, when she fell from that tree. There were things the Capitol couldn't take from me. It's not that didn't try – because, trust me…they tried. But there were things I could remember, and feelings. When you love someone as much as I love Katniss…well, the Capitol didn't take all of that away, and all it takes a little spark—"

"To start an inferno," finishes Gale. "Yeah, I heard you earlier."

More silence.

"I'm sure she ran right into your arms when you got back too, right?" Gale asks.

"On the contrary, the first time I saw her when I got back she was a mess. She looked like she hadn't bathed in weeks, looks like she hardly ate anything – though Greasy Sae assured me that she was eating – and had hardly any color in her skin. It was a pretty pitiful sight."

"That's not answering the question."

"Which one?" Peeta asks plainly. "No, she didn't run into my arms. It took time, like she said before dinner. As to why I chose to come back to 12. Memories, feelings, even if it was still muffled, and still confused about something's…in the end I still loved Katniss, and that was reason enough for me to come back here. But I think I need your answer now. Why are you really here Gale?"

"I'll wait till, Katniss is back down here. What's taking her so long anyway?" he asks impatient.

"They probably wanted her to read a story," says Peeta.

"How does domestic life suit you?"

"Meaning married and parenthood?"

"Yeah."

"It's good." I hear Peeta stand up and mention something about going to the living room to sit and I thrust myself towards the stairs and practically fall up them trying to make it somewhere else before they get over there. Once I see them take seats in the living room I make my way back down the stairs.

"They wanted a story," I say over my shoulder. Peeta's eyes narrow at me. I think he knew I was there listening before, but he doesn't say anything about it. "So what's this news you couldn't share with the kids about?" I sit on the arm of Peeta's chair again. I'm not entirely sure, but the idea of any physical closeness to Gale – however much – is abhorrent.

"Well," says Gale leaning forward placing his elbows on his knees. "I wanted to see how you two were doing. I was just going to watch the house a couple days, but you guys didn't come out from except for when Peeta went to the bakery. Do you not hunt anymore?"

"I do, when the kids are at school," I shrug, "if I do at all." His look makes me explain it more, "I still like hunting Gale, but it's not as easy as it used to be. I see people I've shot constantly. Hunting can never be the same as it was before. Never. No matter how much time has passed."

"But it's been twenty-three years, Katniss."

"Gale," I say as calmly as possible, "I was put in the arena and I killed people. I came out of the arena, thought I was safe, and then was thrown back into another one. I was _taken_ from that arena, and forced to kill people – or do things that would result in people's deaths – the bombings here were entirely my fault. Those are things that never really leave you. I have nightmares just about every night. That's a long time Gale. Twenty-three years is a long time."

"You don't forgive yourself for that?"

"For killing people?" I ask. "No, I'll never be okay with that."

"If someone threatened Peeta? Or your kids?"

"That's different."

"How?" he pries. "How is that different?"

"It's not a war anymore, and we're not in an arena," Peeta rubs my leg. "If someone threatened them now, you bet I would defend them in an instant."

"Good," says Gale quickly. "That might be important."

Peeta stops stroking my leg and we both stare at Gale before says, "_why_?"

* * *

_**Okay...maybe it will be a bit angsty. I tried people, I tried.**_


	3. Chapter 3

Suddenly I'm thrown back in time. Eight years. It's the day before Ivy was born and Peeta was being more protective – and irritating, but that might have just been the hormone's – than ever. I had the mindset that anything that could go wrong, would go wrong. Peeta kept telling me that it would all be okay, and even though the Games were over – and had been since the war – I was always terrified that something would happen to them. The whole labor was terrifying in and of itself. If it hadn't been for Peeta I think I would have lost all of my sanity in the process, but it all changed when he held her in his arms. Tears were streaming down his face. I've never seen him look happier, pre or post-hijacking. I mean he looked pretty happy when I told him we were gonna have a baby, but even that joy seems a small thing compared to him then, that moment.

"Peeta?" I'd asked because he hadn't said anything and I was a little worried.

"Yeah?" he looked up at me, blue eyes misty with tears.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded and then inhaled sharply. "I never thought this would happen." That was a justifiable reason. I hadn't wanted children for a long time, when I finally agreed to it, it still took me two years to follow through with that. I hadn't even told him that I'd stopped taking the pill and the shots. I thought it would be better to surprise him, and I was right.

"I know…" was all I could say. After all he'd been through, after all I'd put him through…the first arena. When we got back to 12. Well…the Quarter Quell changed a lot, and I realized that on the beach. I'd struggled the entire first arena what it would be like if I lost Peeta, but it wasn't until the Quell when I _did_ lose Peeta. He'd hit the force field and died. I'd lost myself completely. I'd always wondered what would happen if Peeta died on me…and then there I was faced with that reality. But Finnick saved him – because it was important to the rebellion – but I did learn later that it was because he realized that my love and care for Peeta was genuine. That is something I'd never be able to thank him for. And then Peeta was taken to the Capitol, I was a complete mess, and when he came back. I'd shut him out, written him off, decided that he'd never come back to me, and given up on him. I hadn't even tried to get him back, to wrestle him from the land of the hijacked. I'd left him to die alone, simply because _I_ couldn't deal with it. I put him through hell, and abandoned him…until Haymitch called me out on it. I'd been punishing him over and over for something that wasn't his fault. All he'd wanted to do in that arena was save me, and when he'd made it out of the arena…I'd done nothing to return the favor. My sins against Peeta are something I'll never forgive myself for, but seeing him with our daughter…I don't know what it did to me, but for the first time, I'd realized just how utterly incomplete my life would have been without Peeta. I can't even picture a world where I didn't let him back in. It was then that tears began to fall helplessly from my own eyes.

"Katniss?" Peeta had asked, sitting back beside me on the bed. "Are you alright?" I nodded and Peeta leaned down and kissed my forehead. "I've never been prouder of you." As if I needed more encouragement to cry. Hormones. That's why I was crying, those damned hormones…and my family. I'd lost my father in the mining accident, I'd lost Prim in the Capitol, and my mother never returned to 12, not even for a visit. The only time I saw her was when Peeta and I traveled to the Capitol to see her. She died two years before Ivy was born.

"Peeta…" I'd barely been able to speak. "She's beautiful."

"Yes," he agreed. "She is, but so is her mother."

"Can I…?" I couldn't even finish the sentence, but he knew what I was asking. He laid Ivy in my arms and a new form of tears left my eyes, happy tears. Our beautiful baby. I looked up at Peeta overwhelmed by my emotions. Peeta helped me sit up and slid into the bed beside me and put his arm around me, and as we watched her sleep in my arm I hiccup an, "I love you," to Peeta. He scooted closer to me, and admitted that he knew. Never had a more perfect moment happened in our lives. Never had I felt more at one with Peeta, more wholly connected, and more irrevocably in love with him. To separate Peeta and me at this point would have resulted in an arrow between the eyes, or directly to the heart, if I'd been a mess before, this would be no comparison.

As we laid in our bed, with Ivy in my arms, Peeta reached over and stroked her little head, "you," he said to her, "are worth all the bad things that we've been through, all the nightmares that we share, all the sleepless nights, the war we had no choice but to be a part of, everything. Everything, good or bad, that has gotten us to this point, is worth it, because you exist. And because you exist, my sweet, perfect, unadulterated child, is what I've waited years for. And you've been worth every second, every moment, every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year, waiting for you has been a pleasure and a privilege." Hijacked or not, Peeta knows how to use words, how to paint a masterpiece with words, and this one, like he said, was completely worth the wait.

But my reprieve is broken, mercilessly, by Gale calling me back to the present. I'd give anything to live in my happy memory, but Gale wouldn't have it.

"It's just something you two should be aware of."

"Who exactly is threatening the remaining victors?" Peeta asks vehemently. I can't say I disagree with his tone.

"We haven't narrowed that down yet, but given the fact that most of you – besides Haymitch and Johanna – are married, or at least have a child." He shrugs. "We just thought it was of dire importance that you know the threat exists."

"Why now?" I ask flatly. "I mean why, after all these years, threaten the victors? I just don't understand."

"We're not entirely sure, Katniss."

"I gathered that much."

"Look," he says raising his hands in front of him defensively, "I determined that it was important you knew. What you do with the information is up to you, but I requested being moved here to watch – guard – you."

"Why?" Peeta and I ask together.

"For your protection, obviously."

"Just Katniss', or all of us?" Peeta asks eying Gale suspiciously.

"All of you," says Gale tentatively, meeting Peeta's harsh gaze with one of his own. "If you don't want my help, fine, but I'm going to stay here all the same. I'll stay with my mother, or one of my brothers, or Posy."

"Gale," I say. "We can take care of ourselves."

"I believe you can," he looks at me now. "But back up is never unwelcome, is it?"

"When it's forced," I say.

"Then no," Peeta and I say jointly.

"Is this really how it's gonna be, Katniss?"

"I think it is," I say emotionlessly.

"But you've lived so," he looks for a word, "simply, for so long now."

"I can still shoot a bow and arrow, Gale. I said I don't hunt much, not that I don't hunt at all."

"You really don't want _any_ help?"

"No," I say. "We really don't."

"Fine," says Gale standing up. "I'll be around town if you change your mind, or you need me."

"Thanks for the warning," says Peeta standing up. "But I think we can take it from here." Gale doesn't even wait for another word from me, he marches to the door, wretches it open and steps out into the cold night air. He shuts the door quietly, and I imagine the only reason that is, is because the kids are sleeping, otherwise I have no doubt he would have slammed it shut. He didn't seem very different. It's as if the time apart had made him…colder, much more harsh. This was not the Gale I knew…not the one I met in the woods when I was younger…no. That Gale has been replaced by this new one, and I've gotta say I don't like it one bit.

Peeta and I go to bed pretty silently, neither sure what to say, and both still so irritated with Gale. I love Peeta, Gale must know that, but there was a sense of a possession battle silently between them. Not that I was their property, but whose right it was to protect me. Fact of the matter is, I can protect myself, but if I had to choose a secondary wingman, it would be Peeta. He's got his own bow now, because he can shoot. I taught him. The audacity of Gale assuming that Peeta was incapable of protecting his family, is perhaps what bothered me the most.

"I know you can take care of us," I tell Peeta as I snuggle up beside him. "I don't like what Gale had to say, or what he implied. But I know that you'd be able to take care of us, that we're safe as long as you're around. I don't worry about the kids at all, because I have you."

"Thank you," he kisses my forehead, "but let's just go to sleep, okay?"

"Okay," I say and within moments we're asleep.

I don't know how long we've been asleep when Peeta shoots up straight in the bed. Ahh, yes. Here we go again. Another flashback, I wonder what one it will be this time. He looks at my eyes frantic.

"You didn't force me into the force field in the Quell, real or not real?" his eyes are crazed now.

"Not real," I say wrapping my arms around him. "You died, your heart stopped. I tried to stop you, but my warning didn't come fast enough."

"You cried over me, real or not real?" his eyes are a little less crazed.

"Real."

His shoulders relax ever so slightly. "You love me, real or not real?"

"Real," I tell him. "Let's get some more sleep, okay?" He nods and we lay back down, my head on his chest and within seconds he's fast asleep again. For some reason, this is the memory most clouded, and I don't understand why. But every time he remembers this one, I feel the sudden necessity to make sure that his heart keeps beating all night, and so I lie awake most often on these nights, because if his heart were to stop…I fall asleep before I can even finish the thought.

The morning comes in a rush, I noticed Peeta get up, but I'm still so tired, still so exhausted from worrying last night that I gently hold his hand as he gets out of the bed. Kissing my forehead he goes to take a shower, and moments later I hear him go down the stairs. His walk is unmistakable. His leg still causes him problems, but we've gotten used to it. It had to be updated a couple years ago, but this leg will never be as good as the one he had before the arena, but he's okay with that.

"Momma!" Rocket screams jumping onto the bed beside me. "Up! Up! Up!" He's bouncing up and down beside me.

"Rocket!" Peeta hollers upstairs, "let your mother sleep. Want to come help with breakfast?" Peeta rarely allows the kids to help with breakfast, not entirely sure why, but when he does offer – Rocket leaps off the bed and you can hear his feet slamming the ground as he runs towards the stairs and stomps down them.

There's a sudden scream – however in the other room – and I hurtle myself out of bed and into Ivy's room. She curled up into a ball crying. She must have had a nightmare, something that unfortunately, she inherited from me.

"Katniss!" Peeta screams up the stairs.

"I've got it!" I yell back. We've becomes accustomed to this nightmare thing. I walk over to and plop myself down on the side of Ivy's bed and within a matter of seconds her arms are wrapped tight around me and she is sobbing uncontrollably. She's had nightmares before, but I've never seen her like this. "Honey," I pull her head up so she can look at me, "what did you dream about?" I'm instantly worried more than I have been before, because her tears don't stop.

"You – " a few gasps, "and Poppa – " a few sobs, "died!"

"Oh sweetie," I hold her tight. What I wouldn't give to force them to leave her, to never bother her again…but I can do nothing. She'll have nightmares for as long as she has them. I stay with her wrapped around and clinging to me until Peeta lets us know breakfast is done. She quickly detaches herself from me, and I follow as quickly as I can manage. I assume the reason she's moved so fast is because she's hungry, but on the contrary, she flings her arms around Peeta. He looks at me helplessly before picking her up and holding onto he tight.

"It's okay Ivy," he says soothingly. That old term…daddy's girl! That definitely describes Ivy. He has such a calming effect on her and no matter what her nightmares, he can sooth her into alertness. A few minutes later she's calmed down and eaten her breakfast. Peeta reminds them that it's a school day and Ivy and Rocket run upstairs to change. "I've gotta change and get out to the bakery, you wanna walk the kids in today?"

"Sure," I tell him, and he quickly leaves the room as well. There's a knocking on the kitchen window, so I walk over there to see Haymitch holding his hands out. I laugh. "Just a minute." I go to the cupboard and grab out one of his plates, fill it up with food, and bring it to him.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he says with a drunken smile.

"You better not be as drunk by tomorrow night," I tell him, "because if you don't show up to Saturday dinner you know there will be hell to pay." He nods and staggers off back to his house. I don't know why we let him have this one week every year, but we do. And Peeta made his favorite breakfast today – food – so Haymitch of course wanted some.

"Momma," Ivy says behind me. "Do you still have nightmares?" I nod. "What are they about?" I don't know what to say suddenly. My nightmares are about the Games, about Prim dying, Finnick dying…most of my nightmares are things I don't want to share with her, but I suppose I owe her the truth. "What are the about?" she asks again when I haven't answered.

"The Games," I say plainly.

"You were in two," she says quietly, "weren't you?"

I nod, "yes. So was your father."

"Does he still have nightmares about it?"

I sigh heavily, "not just that sweetie, but we'll talk more about the Games when you're older."

"Miss Posy," she starts, "said it's a miracle you both made it back here. Is that true?"

I shrug, "I suppose so."

"What would have happened if Poppa hadn't come back here?"

"What do you mean, honey?" I ask.

"Uncle Haymitch," she starts and now I'm worried Haymitch has already told them all about the Games. "He said, Poppa had a choice. That he didn't have to come back here. He said he'd kind of lost his mind…so why did he come back here?"

"You mom," says Peeta in the doorway. "That's why I came back. And I hadn't lost my mind, I was just a bit lost. Some of my memories were altered. That's what I dream about sweetheart."

She looks between the two of us, then says confidently, "I don't really care what happened in the war, or what part you played, I'm just glad that you're here now, that you're alive, and that I have you for parents. That's all that really matters to me anyway."

Peeta and I share a glance and smile. "Wanna come to the bakery with me, until Momma comes with Rocket?"

"Yes!" squeals Ivy. And in a few moments the two of them are out the door. I've been blessed. I shouldn't have all of this, but for some reason, I've gotten all this. Words couldn't not describe how lucky I am, and, yes. Lucky. I am lucky. I have Peeta, I have my children, I even have Haymitch. Yes I've lost a lot, and yes I still have nightmares about the arena, but like Peeta said back before the Quell, _my nightmares are usually about losing [them], I'm okay once I realize [they're] here._


	4. Chapter 4

I'm joined downstairs in a matter of moments with Rocket who has his shirt on backwards and no pants at all. "Rocket, where are your pants?" He shrugs. "Come on," I turn him towards the stairs, "let's go find you some." We make our way upstairs and I find him a nice pair, put them on followed by his socks and shoes and we're on our way to the bakery.

The bakery wasn't an instant thing, it took a long time to rebuild the town. Peeta ran the bakery out of our home for a long time, but Paylor had managed to let the victors – well, everyone that was still alive – keep their homes and their money. Everything we did she felt would be wrong to take away our reward, whatever the reason it was that we got them…which in all of our cases, because we killed children. That's something that not even the most money on the planet could help to solve. No, that money will always be dirty money in my mind, because so many had to die for us to get it, and it's not fair.

"Momma!" Rocket yanks on my hand. "You are going too slow!"

"Sorry," I say picking up the pace. He's skipping and making it very difficult to keep up. Once we make it to town however we see Bentley across the way – Bentley is Rocket's "bestest friend ever" and instead of going to the bakery he looks at me pleadingly to go see him. I agree and walk him over there quickly.

Turning around I come face to face with Haymitch. "Ahh!" I jump back as I smack him in the arm. "You know better than to sneak up on my Haymitch!" The last time he did that – intentionally – I just about put his eye out. Those Games really mess with you, my reflexes are heightened, a lot. "What are you doing here anyways?"

"Getting sober," says Haymitch as he takes a swig of the bottle in his hand.

"Looks like that's going well," there's that condescending tone he was always talking about. "Sorry."

"No," he puts his hands in the air, "you're right. Better get back home." Without another word he trods off back towards victors village. For some reason no ones ever taken down the sign. Maybe it was to prove that we're above that…more likely because taking it down would make no difference at all. We'd always be victors, whether the sign was there or not.

"You better be at dinner tonight!" I yell after him. "I'm not lying to the kids again about where you've been!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he waves me off with his left hand, still clutching the bottle.

As I reach the bakery Ivy comes running out to me. "I'm ready!" Smile beaming. She's always ready for school, and I'm not entirely sure why that is, but not having to force either of them to go to school has always been great. Rocket is smart enough they have him with the next year group. He got his brain from Peeta, his lips from Peeta, the color of his eyes from Peeta…about all he got from me was his hair color.

As I walk Ivy to the school she sees her friend Madge. I don't know who named their daughter after my friend, frankly, I'd always been too emotional about the whole thing to even ask who Madge's parents were. Surely it must have been one of the other girls in our year. I can't see any of the boys doing that, she didn't even have any suitors or a boyfriend or anything, so I don't know who would've done that. I mean, I'm grateful, but still.

As I reach the bakery and am just about to enter, I notice Beatrice Turnkey leaning up against the counter. A blonde woman that just relocated here from some other district. She was always flirting with Peeta, it didn't matter if I was right there – or not – but it _especially_ didn't matter if I wasn't there at all.

"Oh, Peeta," she was saying in her high-pitched, highly irritating, singsong voice. "Why you do make the best cheese buns around." A little laugh escapes from her perky, irritating face, as she strokes Peeta's cheek. "You might have to teach me how to do that sometime." Peeta leans back away from her. "Or balls, or something. It could be really fun." She pushes herself up and walks around in order to get behind the counter, but ha! That's not going to happen.

I run around to the back of the bakery and thrust myself through the door, but I trip on something and am falling forward. Peeta catches me just as I'm about ready to become best friends with the floor. "So nice of you to _drop_ in, Katniss." He smiles silently mocking me for my clumsiness.

"Oh hush," I say trying to get to my feet but he holds me fast. "Good god, Peeta. Let me stand up."

"No," he smiles. "Apparently you don't need an amputated – fake – leg to trip on a sack of flour." I look over and see that that is _exactly_ what I tripped on. I could swear he never puts them there.

"Well," I tease. "It would seem that _someone_ moved them, since the last time I was here."

"What?" he asks innocently. "Me? Uh! Well, I'd never."

"Well, I'm sure that's not true, Peeta – bread man – Mellark."

"Bread man?" he laughs. "New nickname? Oh I love it."

"You're ridiculous," I say as a smile spreads out all over my face.

"Yeah," he nods smiling, "I am. But you love me anyways."

"Except when you put flour somewhere so I can trip on it." I stick my tongue out at him. Sometimes he made me feel so young, but other times, I feel like I've been alive years longer than I have. Wars age you, they never really talk about that, but they aged Prim, they aged and hardened Gale, and they aged me, and Peeta.

"Ahem," says the voice of the home-wrecker to my left. "Still here."

"Oh?" I say looking over at her. "I didn't even notice you."

She gives a slight _hmph_ and then adds words to her disapproval, "I was just complimenting Peeta on his buns."

"Oh," I say as Peeta helps me to my feet. "I know. They're great aren't they?"

"Oh, most definitely," she smiles at Peeta, as if I'm not even here.

"You know, one time, I fell out of a tree and he brought me some _everyday_ because he knew I liked them. I've never had a shortage of bread since we won the Games."

"Well," she shakes her head, "it's kind of because he saved you in there."

Peeta laughs violently. "I saved her?" He looks at me and points to Beatrice. "You hear that, Katniss? I saved you."

I nod. "Um, yeah. Cato. Tracker jackers. 'Katniss run!' 'What are you doing?' 'Go!' 'Get out of here!'"

"Oh." His voice drains of all humor. "I guess we still need to work on that one then." His shoulders drop. Every time he realizes that what he thinks, is wrong, there's a part of his spirit that dies. It's heartbreaking to see…especially when I remember the feeling of those moments and he doesn't.

"It's okay," I stroke his cheek with the back of my hand. "It's not that great of a memory anyways."

"Yeah," he shrugs, voice almost inaudible, "but that moment is part of us. Part of our story. Part of how we got here. To where we are. This moment. This bakery, this place, and this life. And I can't remember it."

"Peeta…" I put my arms around him, but he doesn't embrace me, instead they stay down by his sides. "It's a really long story, we don't need to remember every page."

"That's good," he says flatly. "Because I can't."

"Peeta…" I'm not sure what to say now.

A timer goes off and he pulls himself from my arms, picks up the sack of flour and leaves the room for the ovens. I turn back around to see Beatrice trying to follow him. "_Excuse you._" I say standing in front of her. "Where the _hell_ do you think _you're_ going?"

"To see if Peeta's okay," she tries to maneuver around me.

"Um," I say blocking her way again. "No. You're not."

"Says who?" and she has the audacity to try and get past me again.

"Says me," I say standing resolutely in front of her. "Says me. Katniss. His wife. Mother of his children. You know? Me. I'm saying so."

"So?" she shrugs.

"Well, _excuse_—" that's all I get out before Haymitch comes up behind me.

"Um, little lady," he says to Beatrice, "you've seen what she can do with a bow, right?" Beatrice nods. "And yet you're still trying to get _past_ her to _follow_ Peeta?" She nods. "Girl, you don't have any brain in there do you?" Her jaw drops. "Now, would be a good time to take that nice package of cheese buns—"

"I didn't pay for them—"

"I will," he says plainly. "So take that nice little package of cheese buns you've got there and, what's that olden term, ah, yes, hit the road."

"I just want to—"

"No." Haymitch shakes his head. "You've seen what she can do with a bow…wanna see what I can do with a knife? Hmm? That might be entertaining. You might like that…then again you might not." He smiles at her. I'm glad he's never smiled at me like that, it's very menacing, albeit, a bit terrifying.

Beatrice slowly leans forward, grabs the bread, huffs loudly and leaves the bakery in a matter of seconds. I then turn to Haymitch and throw my arms around him, and unintentionally start to cry.

"It's okay, sweetheart," he coos pulling me into his arms and rubbing my back, "that big mean blonde lady won't hurt you anymore, I promise."

I smile. "Thanks, Haymitch."

"That's what I'm here for girl," he smiles. "To make crazy stalkers of Peeta go away. Fear not little girl, I've got this. Ain't no one gonna make a move on your boy. I might – occasionally – when I'm drunk…but that's about it." I smile and wipe the tears from my eyes. "Now," he says patting my shoulders. "What you need to do, is go make sure that husband of yours is alright." I nod and walk through the doorway.

What I see is not what I expect. Beatrice has Peeta cornered.

"_You have got to be kidding me!_" I scream at her.

"I didn't do anything," says Peeta, hands raised, "I _swear._"

"Girl, you are the dumbest person I have _ever_ seen, and that's saying something," says Haymitch from behind me. "Because I have to look at this," he points at his face, "every damn day of my life."

I turn to look at him, "what's that you were saying about, um, crazy stalkers of Peeta?"

"Right!" he straightens up, walks right over to her, hoists her over his shoulder. "What you need is a good _cold_ shower. So I'll tell you what, we're gonna go back to my house in victors village and—" and he's out the door.

"Well," I say looking back at Peeta. "I guess Johanna was right, all those years ago."

"Pardon?"

"Apparently, the whole world wants to sleep with you."

"But I only want to sleep with _my_ world," he says winking at me.

"Cute," I smile. "Exaggerated, and totally ridiculous, but cute."

"Why, thank you," he takes a bow. "Thank you very much!"

We finish out the rest of the school day in the bakery and when it's time for the kids to get out of school, I've barely made it to the door before Gale waltzes in with them behind him.

"Gale?" Peeta asks puzzled.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

"I told you—" he starts.

"We know." Says Peeta in monotone. "We heard you."

"Why are you picking up our kids?" I ask as the two of them run over to the donuts. They beg Peeta for one, and because he wants to talk with Gale right now, as much as I do, he lets them. As they take a seat at one of the tables Peeta and I walk over to Gale. "Why are you picking up our kids?"

Peeta follows up my question immediately with one of his own. "Who let you take them?"

"Posy."

"Why?" Peeta and I ask together.

"I don't think you realize how serious this is," his eyes meet mine and there's an intensity there that I can't explain.

"Then do enlighten us, will you?" I meet his gaze with equal intensity.

"Someone is threatening, you two in particular."

"Why us, 'in particular'?" asks Peeta putting his arm around me.

"Because you two…" he shrugs. "Well no one thinks you two should've worked out, because the war split you up pretty good."

"Are you targeting us Gale?" asks Peeta.

"Of course not," he sounds hurt.

"Then who is?" Peeta's gaze seems harsh now.

"No more beating around the bush," I nod assent, "who is threatening the victors and us in particular?"

"You wouldn't believe me…"

"Humor us," says Peeta humorlessly.

"Okay, it's…"


	5. Chapter 5

"_It's_?" Peeta and I say almost inaudibly.

"Who is it?" I say through gritted teeth. "Who is threatening the victors Gale?"

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" he asks hesitantly, shifting his weight.

"Yes," says Peeta. "Who is threatening us?"

"Romulus Thread."

Romulus Thread, the evil Peacekeeper who came to District 12 to replace Cray. The one who whipped Gale for poaching, who whipped me for helping Gale, who threatened to shoot me. Peeta and Haymitch had come to my rescue. I had been confused about my feelings for both Peeta and Gale at that time, and I guess because Gale was hurting I felt like I owed him some returned feelings…I'd thought that I'd picked Gale, but I hadn't. The only thing I had been aware of was that Snow had Peeta, and that's all I thought about. Then Peeta came back, hijacked, hating me – no. I'm not going to think about that.

"How did you hear about this Gale?" Peeta asks grabbing my hand.

"We just hear things," he shrugs and shifts uncomfortably.

"Who is 'we'?" I say, eyes narrowing at him.

"An elite group established by Paylor, to keep the Districts from fighting, or giving out unjust punishments—"

"So, you're basically Peacekeepers." Peeta and I say together, but we don't look at each other this time.

"Well, you can certainly tell you two have been together for a long time…" he shrugs. "Anyways, no. We're not Peacekeepers."

"Aren't you in charge of handling the peace?" Peeta steps forward, my hand still inside his. "Doesn't that in essence make you Peacekeepers?"

Gale sighs heavily. "Thread is a real threat Peeta…I just thought you should know."

"Why are you doing this?" I ask.

"Katniss," he sighs, "I may have failed you when it comes to Prim but—"

The door opens with a _bang_ as the hinges are tested for all they're worth.

"The party can start now!" Johanna Mason yells.

"Auntie Jo!" screams Rocket, at an alarmingly high pitch as he runs over to her and she slings him over her shoulder. Ivy isn't far behind him and throws her arms around Johanna's waist.

"You said you wouldn't be gone long," Ivy says accusingly.

"I'm sorry baby girl," says Johanna apologetically, patting Ivy on the head lightly with her free hand. "Hey, brainless!" she nods in my direction. "And bakey cakey!" She winks at Peeta. For some reason she just adapted using this, term of endearment? Whenever Peeta was around, which was a lot. "I'm gonna go eat a donut." Peeta nods and she waddles over behind the counter with the children still holding on tightly to her. "Oh," she says not turning, "and I guess hi to you tall idiot."

Gale looks at Peeta and me with a puzzled expression, and then jabs his thumb in Johanna's direction, "is it wise to have such a volatile person near your kids?"

At that Johanna snaps to make eye contact, "_volatile_? You try being put into a couple arena's, and being fuuu – tortured – by the Capitol for information you aren't going to give them! That would make you pretty volatile, too!"

"What's vol-til-tile?" asks Rocket, still upside-down.

"Vol-ah-tile," corrects Johanna. "And it basically means – well how the tall idiot means it – that I can't control myself and I lash out a lot and want to kill people."

"You killed that pig," Rocket points out, poking Johanna's nose with his pointer finger.

"Yes honey," she nods, "but pigs are not people."

"Johnny's a pig," says Rocket. "He's always stinking."

"Yeah…um…" Johanna looks to me and I shrug. "Not what I mean Rocky."

"Mmkay," he shrugs and Johanna puts him back onto his feet but he just plops to the floor and throws his arms and legs around her right leg and hangs on. "I mist you."

"Aww," says Johanna looking down at him, "I missed you too little boy." She leans down and kisses the top of his head.

"Why were you gone so long?" asks Ivy looking up at Johanna.

When Johanna looks at me, hurt registers in her expression. What could have possibly happened while she was gone? "I had some stuff to take care of baby girl. If I could have changed things, I would have. Unfortunately, something came up and I couldn't leave as early as I wanted to."

"We thought you didn't love us anymore," says Ivy and a single tear falls from Johanna's eyes.

"Never," she shakes her head. "I'll always love you guys."

"Good!" says Rocket triumphantly.

"Now what's going on here?" she asks waving a finger in the air between Peeta, Gale, and I. "This never happens. Like we haven't seen him since the rebels won and Snow and Coin were defeated." Her eyes narrow at him, "why's he here?" Peeta tilts his head in the direction of Ivy and Rocket. "What the fuck?!" She shouts it and then frantically looks at the kids, "Which is a bad bad word. Naughty word. Don't ever let any of us catch you saying that word!"

"We donnnn't," hisses Ivy. "We know better than that."

"Good girl," says Johanna booping her on the nose with a smile. "Want me to take the rugrats home?" She asks obligingly. Peeta and I nod together. "This doesn't get you two out of an explanation though."

"Of course not," I sigh. She'd have my hide if I didn't explain things to her. She'd probably launch mission: KEEP IVY ROSE AND ROCKET SAFE, all by herself, and never sleep and…okay, we don't have to tell her everything. "We'll see you in a bit." I tell my children. Johanna tries to move and nothing happens. "Guys, she can't move if you don't let go."

"Hold our hands?" Rocket pleads.

"You couldn't stop me!" She smiles. Rocket jumps to his feet and eagerly grabs her hand. Ivy releases her vice grip around Johanna's waist and takes Johanna's hand in the two of hers. "Byeeee," says Johanna as she and the kids leave through the back of the bakery. You can barely hear them ask to stop at Haymitch's, but she denies it instantly. Her and Haymitch have an odd relationship.

"Katniss?" they both say to me.

"What?" I look back to them. "Oh, come on, they're adorable. Let a woman admire her children alright." I shake my head and then urge Gale to continue. "What's going on with Thread, Gale?"

"He sent out an announcement to Paylor, that he had some changes in mind, and mentioned that it might include the past victors." He sighs and shifts his weight around. "He didn't say explicitly what would happen, just that it might, so right now we're just trying to keep an eye on everyone."

"Let me guess," says Peeta flatly. "You volunteered to come here to watch out for Katniss."

"Well, I'm not going to deny that." He shrugs. "Katniss is the exact reason I cam back to 12."

"Well, it's not like we've actually spoken in years," I shrug, let go of Peeta's hand and cross them over my chest, "what were you expecting? A warm welcome? Prim, Gale. Prim. I'll never have my sister back, my children—" Peeta clears his throat. "_Our_ children, will never know their aunt."

"Looks like they're doing just fine," he says raising his hand in the direction the left from with "Auntie Jo." I can't stop myself, and I'm not sure that I'd want to, but my arms fall to my side and I take a long step to Gale and slap him across the face.

"How _dare_ you." Peeta pulls me back and wraps his arm around me as I cry into his shoulder. No remorse. I didn't think it actually existed, seems I was right. Those bombs ended the war, and that's what he wanted—exactly what he wanted—and Prim and all of those Capitol children paid the price. Sure the Games were over, but there was one more sacrifice to be made…the lives of innocent children. Having children of my own now, thinking of those parents, the one's whose families were forever altered along with mine…and my heart breaks. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to Ivy or Rocket. I look up from Peeta's should and stare into Gale's eyes, "how _dare_ you, Gale. I can't – were you ever – are you even – do you feel bad at all for what happened to Prim?"

"Yes."

"Is that only because you said, 'that was the only thing I had going for me, taking care of your family'?" I inhale sharply. "Just because I couldn't – can't – forgive you for that. My sister is dead because of that bomb."

"Well, it was Beetee's too, do you talk to him still?"

"No," I say flatly. "I haven't seen or talked to him in years either. But he did come here to apologize…except he actually meant it!"

"What do you want from me, Katniss?" he throws his hands in the air in surrender.

"Nothing, Gale." I sigh. "From you I want nothing. From the Peacekeeper side of you, I want information. I want updates. But that's as far as we go. There is no you and me, there is no we, there is no us. You have a job to do, fine, do it, but don't try to act like things are okay with you and me. I'm writing you off."

"Isn't that what you did with Peeta in 13?" he gestures to my arms around Peeta again…I hadn't even noticed that I'd done that. "And look at you now."

"What? Married. With children." I throw my arms up in the air before resting them around Peeta again. "You're right, this is exactly what writing people off looks like. No. No, this is what remorse, forgiveness, and genuine feelings towards one another looks like. Yes, Snow messed us both up, quite a lot, but like you said, look at us _now_. Snow tried his hardest to make coming back together impossible…but we _did it._" I look at Peeta, kiss him on the cheek and look back at Gale. "This is what love looks like," I turn and ask Peeta, "real or not real?"

A smile creeps across his face before he says, "real," and kisses my forehead.

"See?" I look back at Gale. "It's not the same thing at all."

"So you're saying if I'd apologized, I'd've had a chance?" he asks. Sincerely. My jaw drops. "This whole thing could have been my life? Instead of Peeta's?"

"Really?" I ask dumbfounded. "That's what you got out of 'this is what love looks like'?" I scoff. "Well that a load of falafel. No. You blew that chance a long time ago Gale. I never really loved you, granted I'd thought I did, but years down the road, I know I didn't. When I came back from that first arena, I was already confused about Peeta, and then you kissed me, and well…I was jut very confused. But you said so yourself – the way I kissed Peeta in the Quell – I'd never kissed you like that."

"You _heard_ that?" the both ask in astonishment.

"Well, it's not like we had a lot of space down there." They exchange a puzzled look. "Oh come on, really?"

"How much of that conversation did you hear?" Peeta asks hesitantly.

"Most of it," I shrug. "But that's not the point here guys." I give Peeta a reproachful look and then turn back to Gale. "Point therefore being, no Gale. By the Quell…no, what happened with me and Peeta never would have happened with you and me. You loved the war too much. You couldn't love both of us, me and the war, and so you chose the war." His head droops slightly. "If I had never been reaped in that first arena, if I'd just taken the barriers and died like I was supposed to, if I'd been better at convincing the districts, and done everything that Snow had ever wanted, or blackmailed me to do…even then, no. Because you'd always be looking for revolution, and I'd always refuse to marry and have children. If any of that had never happened, Peeta and I still would have shared a connection, because he saved me from death long before we had ever met, and at the time Peeta is who I needed. In that arena, Peeta is who I needed. During the Victory Tour, on that train, in that bed, Peeta is who I needed. Through the announcement of the Quell and onward, Peeta is who I needed."

"You sure about that?" Gale asks timidly. He knows I'm right, but he has to ask anyway, for his own sanity.

"Positive." I nod. "I suppose it always was Peeta. I suppose there never really was anyone else, I was just too young, and naïve to see the difference…to understand what it truly meant to need someone – or love someone, for that matter. I was just a child, forced into adulthood because of a war I never wanted, but started because I couldn't kill Peeta, and he wouldn't let me kill myself. I suppose he's been saving me my whole life, I just didn't realize that it was in more ways than one." I squeeze Peeta gently. "The only thing that war changed, was in forcing me to grow up, to become something that everyone else needed, to do so much of that alone. You weren't the best friend in 13 Gale…you can't deny that." He shakes his head. "But we need to get going, because Haymitch is coming for dinner, and he likes to eat on arrival." I drop my arms from around Peeta's waist and interlace our fingers. "I'll sure we'll see you around."

"Yeah," he nods. "You will."

"Feel free to _not_, drop in." Says Peeta as he swings the door to the bakery open, ushering Gale outside. I then lead him and I out of the bakery and he shuts and locks the door behind us. "Let's go home," he tells me.

As I watch Gale walk away, "let's go home."

"So you love me, huh?" Peeta asks with a smile.

"Yeah," I smile back. "I love you."


End file.
